Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 1, 1921

March 1, 1921 – 

As I sit here in my invalid’s chair, and look out at the oily rutted road sparkling in the sun, I think that Earth receives no gift so precious as this flood of March fire that leaps forward out of the South, and spreads in brilliant flashes over the land, causing the saplings to bristle, and the blood of boys and men to quicken. And to think that somewhere even now, (and formerly to a greater degree) there are men & women who seek by fasting and prayer to drive this hot impulse to life out of their bodies. And now a man becomes jealous at the least senile suggestion in his make-up; so I sit here in a dull stuffy room; my blood sluggish from unaccustomed inaction, and envy the world outside. My body is properly subdued, but complaints, not prayers rise in my heart. 

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 1, 1921